Wednesday, February 28, 2007

The Beauty of Grunge

There must be fifty people waiting to board King County Metro route 194 express from SeaTac to downtown Seattle. It's an articulated bus, but with the luggage and overloaded backpacks, it's still gonna be a squeeze.

As I step on a woman with a large wheeled upright stands near the front asking, "Does anybody have change for a ten?"
I now recognize the wisdom of bringing small bills.
"I might." This forces me to quickly find a seat since I am dragging a large duffle and shoulder bag myself. So I slide next to a woman who has taken one and a half seats with an overflowing cotton bag.
"Do you have enough space?" She asks.
I'm not sure if she is being sarcastic, but I reply, "Yes, thanks."

As I dig through my bags to find the cache of small bills, another man--a Somali immigrant who drives one of those electric motor carts shuttling the elderly and disabled from one terminal to the next--has already given her a dollar.

Just gives her a dollar? Where are we...Seattle?

I finally dig out my bills and discover that, yes indeed, I have change for a ten.
"Ma'am, would you like me to break a ten, so you can repay that man?"
"Yes I would."
I change her ten. She turns around and pays the man, who smiles shyly.
"We're all here to help one another."

The fare on this express bus, which takes about a half hour to arrive downtown, is 1.25. I can't think of a better bargain for airport transportation. Once you arrive downtown, don't worry about getting around since the bus is actually free.

Wow, what a concept! Actually encourage riding the bus and getting out of the car by keeping fares low...Hmmm who doesn't understand that--oh yeah, the LA Times and MTA.

Almost 1/3 of Seattle residents commute without a car. That's twice as many as in Los Angeles, and it's actually quite a beautiful city to live in as well.

The thing is that for Seattleites riding the bus is almost a source of pride. In contrast to Angelenos, who have a shocked and worried look when I tell them I ride the bus...

A twenty something once asked me,"Isn't it dangerous for women...especially good looking women?"
I thought, "Uh, I don't want to push you to more rhinoplasty, but..."
I said, "Yes, attractive women do ride the bus."
She looked doubtful.

Perhaps she is picturing the grungy looking women who reside in Seattle, with their NorthFace waterproof jackets and hiking shoes--women who get their exercise from walking the steep inclines of the city rather than the steep inclines of the latest thousand dollar elliptical trainers--micro greenhouse gas generators--in front of TVs showing Al Gore's post Oscar interview--these Angelenos thinking, "Damn, I wish he was president."

"Here we are now
Entertain us"
-Nirvana

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Nascar Nature

The following is a letter I sent to National Public Radio:

Listening to the February 18 Weekend Edition Sunday, Arlynda Boyer's description of Dale Earnhardt conveying the essence of bodhicitta strained deeply my own buddha nature.

This is like saying Ronald McDonald conveys bodhicitta--sure he has a kindly demeanor and people feel happy in his presence--he even gives millions for families of chronically ill children. But he is also the smiling face behind enormous suffering, only one small part of which is to inspire addiction in children leading to skyrocketing rates of obesity and diabetes.

NASCAR embodies the antithesis of Buddhist compassion for all living things. It generates divisive triumphalism and negates interbeing. It teaches children to delight in the massive plunder of our planet brought on by the automobile.

Coastlines and wilderness, ecosystems on which millions of animal and plant species depend, are poisoned by the oil drilling, metal mining and chemical manufacturing that feed the speeding monstrosity worshipped at the asphalt temple.

Earnhardt may indeed have shown a humility and even a love towards others uncommon to sports celebrities--moments of the divine found in us all--but why not look for bodhicitta in a woman who rides the bus three hours each day so she can live with her daughter, son-in-law and three grandchildren in a one bedroom East L.A. flat and dust furniture in a Westlake Village office park. This life of less means her smile reflected in the bus window blesses us all.

Monday, February 12, 2007

valenTimes mess

Steve Lopez of the L.A. Times sparked a blaze of suggestions for what to do about traffic in this city of sigalerts. In response to city plans to explore possibilities for the expo line, Lopez invited readers to have their say and over 600 responded.

Reading through the suggestions, what is striking is how often there is a blame the other guy attitude: "What if every car on the road maintained two car lengths in front so that others could easily merge on and off the freeways?", "Make it illegal to circumvent traffic by using an exit lane and merging back in at the last moment," "Require drivers to follow the laws and keep to the right except when passing. Drivers in the left lane impede traffic cutting down efficient use of the highway"--it's as if all we need to do is send everybody to driving school for rumbling bumpkins.

On the other hand, even among people whose knowledge of buses is likely being annoyed when they are stuck behind them, a large number recognize the need to improve public transit. A few even recognize the fast and inexpensive solution of bus only lanes, proposed by the BRU several years back. One writer suggests, "Make Sepulveda Blvd. through the Sepulveda Pass a bus only throughway during peak traffic periods with no private vehicle access unless you are a resident or carpooling."

Meanwhile, in a January 26 editorial, the LA Times calls for higher fares and reduced service! Why don't they just call for a tax break to coal plants that increase emissions? They must be living in the other dimension that string theorists hypothesize, where traffic in L.A. is no more a problem then ice cream on the face of your three year old niece. Just lick it off.

Why not go to the MTA, 1 Gateway Plaza, on Valentines Day, February 14, and give the board members a message at a special meeting on fare hikes. L.A. needs more bus service not less! No fare hikes!

We love you but this is L.A. not Mister Roger's Neighborhood. Wash your face.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Auto Crimes

"What gives a torque wrench its power?"
I'm still on the plane. Two San Gabriel Valley guys in their twenties sit next to me talking cars.
"What?"
"You know, how does it get its power?"
"It doesn't have any more power than a regular wrench," he says with condescension.
There's a clear hierarchy in this relationship--the master of auto and his wide-eyed apprentice.
"Oh, I mean how does it work."
"It's just like a regular socket wrench except you can set how tight you want it to tighten, and it slips when it gets to the desired tightness."
"Oh"

I tune out as they continue talking about the merits of different tire treads, mufflers and cooling systems, and then my ears perk up again.

"Do you think I'd lose my license if I got caught doing 140 in a 70
zone?" asks the apprentice.
"Hell no," says the master.
"Oh."
"I was once caught going 127 in a 50, and I didn't lose my license." He chuckles.
The apprentice laughs lightly, "yeah?"
"So, I mean that's, lets see, that's more than twice the speed limit, that's like, that's like two and a half times the speed limit. And if I didn't lose my license for that then, you know, 140 in a 70, no way, because, you know, that's only twice the speed limit, you wouldn't lose it for that."
The apprentice nods at the wisdom.
"Yeah that's my highest 127 in a 50. Damn that cost me a bundle. Shit, I'm gonna lose my license for sure next time."

Siphoning the rebel rage expressed here is the top selling Playstation 2 game, Grand Theft Auto, a triumphal combination of high velocity and pillage.

And since the February 2 release of the IPCC report, who can describe this rage as anything but a rage to pillage?

And who now can doubt the need to make private automobility exponentially more expensive?

This week the EU proposed legislation requiring new cars to reduce emissions by 18%, likely increasing vehicle price and adding to the already high cost of driving in Europe, where gas taxes are typically 3 times what they are in the U.S.

Once again Europe is way ahead of us.
On the other hand, while they have Paris, we have Paris, Las Vegas.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Suck it Up


(image from www.babyminestore.com)

...and the snow came.

I was in the cities for a week and we had rain but no snow, until
the day I was to leave. One would think that of all airports
MSP would be well prepared for a little snow, but we were
delayed 2 hours. No big deal except that I was making a connection
in Phoenix and that plane was long gone by the time I had
arrived.

Oh that's not a problem, the helpful person at the counter said,
we can guarantee you a flight in two days. In two days??
I asked to be put on the wait list for the last flight to
LAX. Well sure you can try, there are only 50 people
waiting ahead of you.

I thought fast. Next to the LAX flight I noticed a flight to
Ontario. The wait list was small, but I would have to give
up my space on the LAX list. I gambled, and I was the last
person on the list to get on. How I get to the valley from Ontario,
I do not care--at least Im not stuck in Phoenix for two days.

As you can imagine everyone on the plane is relieved. The high
tensions untensed. But that doesn't stop the jackasses from coming
out of the woods.

If you're not in first class, the exit row is the best seat
in the plane, with the luxury of extra leg space. The only
burden is listening to a series of short questions from the
flight attendant about your ability to assist in an emergency.
But some men in their early thirties are dumber then a corn
tassel.

The guy in the window seat across from me is yaking on his
cell and the flight attendant politely but firmly asks if he
could take a minute to answer a few questions. He ignores her
and keeps rambling away. She looks at him with annoyance and
says, "we can wait." He does not move his cell from his ear but
stops talking and looks back at her as if he was in junior
high school and his English teacher just threatened to
send him to the principal's office.

This attitude isn't unusual. It is the same "the world is here
to serve me" air found among drivers on the streets and freeways of LA.
Their cell phones are their binkies--when not stuck to the mouth,
the face of these toddlers scrunches up and elephant tears foretell
a screech of elephant rage. Their leather interiored Tundras are
strollers--"push me mommy push me, I don't want to walk, WAAAAH!"

After the flight attendant gives her short talk, binkie boy says both
to his neighbor and his cell,
"Someone's a little pissy today!"
They all laugh like frat boys who just did twenty beer bongs, went on
Riddler's Revenge and puked on everyone so the ride had to be closed
for a 15 minute spray down.

The techno-bubble propels the cyclical vomiting syndrome
it attempts to shield.